


Mist Upon the Eyes

by Bloody_Jeans



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Assassins, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Arkenstone - Freeform, Assassin Bilbo Baggins, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Baggenshield - Freeform, Bilbo may or may not be a slut, Bilbo means well, Brother/Brother Incest, Dangerous Bilbo Baggins, Durincest, Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Have I got your attention yet?, Hobbiton, I'm Sorry Tolkien, M/M, Nobody knows about Bilbo's skills, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rewrite of The Hobbit, Romance, Secrets, Slash, Sorry Not Sorry, The Shire, Thilbo, Thorin's kind of a jerk, Work In Progress, hobbits are assassins, lots of tags means you should read this, skills, slow updates sorry, there may be other relationships but i'm not sure, they hide it well, until they do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5300228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_Jeans/pseuds/Bloody_Jeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> When you think of a hobbit, what usually comes to mind? One would expect a short, plump, and very large-and-hairy-footed little creature would appear in your thoughts. That's exactly what they want you to think. That's what you let them trick you into believing. You wouldn't see them coming even if they nipped you right on the nose and hammered a large stick up your arse.</i>
</p><p>What if our favorite little, underestimated hobbits happened to have more up their sleeves than we realized? The Company, especially Thorin Oakenshield, is about to find out!</p><p>Or: In which Bilbo Baggins is secretly one BAMF assassin. </p><p>  <i>Available on FF.net</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** You and I both know what's coming... Unfortunately, no parts of J.R.R. Tolkien's universe have ever belonged to me or will ever belong to me. All rights go to him, the publishing companies of the books, and to Peter Jackson. All I own is this little story's plotline...

__

_When you think of a hobbit, as rare as that in itself is, what usually comes to mind? One would expect a short, plump, and very large-and-hairy-footed creature to appear in your thoughts._

_That's_ exactly _what they want you to think. That's what you_ let _them trick you into believing. To see past the mist upon your eyes, you also need to see past the endless handkerchiefs and soft, beardless bodies. However, I'm certain that more than half of you haven't even heard of the buggers before now._

_No, no, no._

_In reality, hobbits are much more dangerous little wretches than you or I or anyone else realize. They are one of the deadliest things you could most unfortunately encounter in your lifetime, more deadly than even poisonous snakes or spiders. In fact, hobbits are on the level of danger that comes right beneath a dragon._

_Of course, you won't believe me if I tell you all this without any proof, will you? Why should you? Hobbits supposedly cherish their doilies like Yavanna herself is contained within them, and they gossip all day, eat seven meals, garden for petty contests, and celebrate every chance they get._

_These innocent, child-like faces deceive most everyone._

_But why do you think hobbits need those seven meals a day, eh? To regain energy, of course - but's not like they spend so much every day on gossiping. How do you suppose they have all those resources? Money, certainly - but in order to have money, you need to have a job. You don't just pull out gold from your nostrils or eardrums, as some miserable fools are prone to think, and the hobbits aren't exactly known for their mining capabilities._

_No, the hobbits' jobs are more than your usual, run-of-the-mill work. They train straight from adolescence to be the best they can at it. You won't see them coming even if they nip you right on the nose and hammer your dumb arse._

_But then came the day when hobbits became even more dangerous than dragons, much to everyone's shock. That is, everyone but a certain wizard's._

_It started when a large company of dwarrows invaded poor Mister Bilbo Baggins' hobbit-hole._

_And it all escalated straight from there..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how was it?
> 
> This is my first contribution to the amazing Hobbit community that I've been stalking for months (sorry not sorry), and this is one of the first stories I've written in quite a while. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it, and please if you did, send me a review or kudos down below! Who knows... maybe the first chapter could come a little faster. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*
> 
> Now onto a little bit about myself and my new story:
> 
> I have no definite idea of where the plot (or lack thereof) is going, but hopefully, I'll manage well enough to please everyone.
> 
> This is mainly based on the movies, because I love Martin Freeman and Richard Armitage and Peter Jackson, etc., but there will be book references! Additionally, because it's just better for me to imagine it this way, all of the Company (excluding Fili and Kili of course) lived in Erebor before the dragon's attack.
> 
> THIS WILL BE A SLASH STORY BETWEEN BILBO BAGGINS AND THORIN OAKENSHIELD! There is a possibility of mature sex scenes (if I can get over my embarrassment at writing them first). Other pairings might include major Fili/Kili and minor Dwalin/Ori, Bofur/Nori, Balin/Dori, and Bifur/Oin (basically, all the Dwarves are gay and shagging each other). Please don't be offended at my choice of possible couples, but if you don't like any of this, leave right now without dropping me a flaming review.
> 
> Anyways, thank you all for reading! Hope you continue to do so! Until next time!


	2. All in a Day's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little background on our favorite hobbits, and we get a sneak-peek at Bilbo's occupation!

It was nearly dawn when Bilbo Baggins finally stumbled home into his hobbit hole, collapsing in bed covered in blood and sore to the bone. Despite his exhaustion, the hobbit was rather proud of how well the hard night's work had gone. There were only a few snags and nothing he couldn't handle. Quick and easy, as most of his jobs lately had been. It was dull, to be truthful.

And dissatisfaction doth not a settled hobbit make.

During the mission, Bilbo had concealed himself in the shadows of the Green Dragon Inn until nearly all of the patrons stumbled home to their spouses or passed out from the sleeping herbs slipped into their ale. All but one: there, sitting tense in the corner and sipping beer quietly, sat the hobbit's target of the night. Bilbo, even from his location, had clearly discerned the Man's anxiety - or perhaps fear? - by the way his dark eyes constantly darted around the dirty room.

Bilbo had smirked then; he did so love it when his - for lack of a better term - victims were aware of his coming. It made them all the more entertaining to play with, although his cousins rather disapproved. Drogo never failed to caution him against dragging out the job lest he be caught and risk their whole peaceful demeanor, whilst he cuddled with his fiery lass, Primula Brandybuck.

However, despite what some might have believed, Bilbo Baggins wasn't one to play by the rules.

Approaching Mister William Collins from behind, the hobbit had seductively whispered in his ear, "Hello." Delighting in his target's startled jump, he added, "Mind if I join you?" Collins relaxed on his stool after he sent the halfling a quick cursory look, nodding. He'd seen the little folk around before and had presumed they were of no threat to him.

 _Big mistake on his part,_ Bilbo thought when he was back home, snuggling into his soft pillows. A fact he'd forgotten to mention: while he was expecting him, Collins didn't quite recognize our Master Baggins was the one he was specifically interested in.

No one ever did.

The hobbit had plopped himself down across from the moderately handsome but obviously stressed man and given him his best, hobbit-lass-winning smile to get him interested.

 _And oh, Yavanna, did he get interested!_ mused Bilbo as he remembered the tall man later pinning him to the creaky bed in one of the pub's lodgings for rent. Despite delaying his job, Bilbo certainly enjoyed himself whilst the Man rocked against him and flicked his tongue up and down the hobbit's neck. Usually, things were much more boring; not every target was as handsome as Collins, so it mainly ended up with Bilbo and an unidentifiable body in a dark alley.

Too bad it had to end so soon, though.

You might be wondering what on earth Bilbo was doing in a filthy pub with that repulsive human in the first place. Well, he was doing was he'd been trained to do from the ripe age of fifteen: to exterminate vermin like Collins.

Now, now, don't concern yourself too much! Hobbits are generally amicable creatures, but back before they were completely settled down in their new land by the Blue Mountains (though most hobbits didn't even recall the Wandering Days), they had needed to somehow both defend themselves and keep the income coming too.

So these clever little beings came up with just the solution: training straight from their youths to become secret, highly-skilled hired killers. The halflings were quick on their feet, hard to see, and very underestimated by outsiders; no real assassin could even have all those benefits.

Thankfully, for the rest of the world, hobbits rarely ever venture out of their benevolent, picturesque Shire unless it's for a very profitable job. Even then, mainly the Tooks, the most daredevil but certainly not the most dangerous of clans in Hobbiton, accept those offers. After all, they can't have every hobbit in the Shire with the notion to leave roaming outside of the borders because, like Drogo Baggins said, they might reveal more of the people's secrets than is safe. Moderation was key in this society; not too many out and about nor too many noticeable special qualities about them, but just enough to keep the Bigger Folk away.

One last thing to note: no one is fully aware of these halflings' occupations, not even their most trusted friends from the Outside, though some may suspect. The only reason they've been able to survive so long is because no one feels threatened by them. Instead, most non-hobbits believe there is only a single, wide-working, everlasting being, though they are not sure of which race or gender, who is called the Assassin - ah, yes! Let's not forget the oh-so-creative nickname for our favorite little creatures!

But now that I've answered most of your questions though I'm certain not all, allow me to return the subject to Mister Baggins' night out:

Before matters escalated too far, Bilbo discretely slipped out the blade hidden underneath the pillow (he and the inn's owner, a fellow hobbit, had planned out the attack right down to the exact bed). Mister Baggins, to this day, still recalls in wicked delight how Collins' hooded eyes had widened almost immediately once he'd felt the cold metal greet him underneath the belt.

Having enough sense to still his body completely, the man demanded, "Why?"

"Hmm. Well, it isn't my place to know why," replied the hobbit. "Let's just say that your old pal, Charley, wanted me to pass on a little message." The man's terrified eyes met his, and that's all they became in that moment. Only a hobbit and his prey, the human.

Then the real fun and screams began.

As per his client's specific request, Collins' throat had been slit as the final wound to kill him, and though Bilbo admittedly found the request to be a bit unusual, he didn't dare question it. Like he'd told the man, it wasn't his job to know why.

Afterwards, as he heaved the heavy man's body into a potato sack and over his shoulder, Bilbo had dragged him to the predestined location to collect his well-earned prize. Unfortunately, that's when things hadn't gone as planned, and it was the only snag in our hobbit's mission that night.

Charles Wiley had been impatiently waiting there for quite some time because of reasons not respectable to converse of publicly (but which involved Bilbo and Collins). It was an understatement to say that the man was not pleased with Bilbo, and after ordering his men to attack, the scoundrel didn't even stay to fight. Instead, he ran off with the hobbit's money, only serving to enrage Master Baggins further! Bilbo wasn't one to let all his hard work go to waste; therefore, he dealt with the situation as was necessary. You truly wouldn't want me to go into the gruesome details, I'm afraid.

 _Whoever next purchases the warehouse may never be able to get all the red stains out, poor sod,_ Bilbo smirked over coffee the next morning when he woke up.

He whipped himself up a rather plentiful second breakfast (as he'd overslept the first) while he nibbled on a sandwich and pretzels. Bilbo later delighted in the taste of the sweet bread dipped into the yolks of his fried eggs, then he consumed nearly a dozen white sausages, leaving only enough room in his belly for a left-over slice of apple pie from yesterday's supper.

Later, the hobbit sat back his chair with a loosened belt and pleasant sigh while he reviewed the day's agenda. There were only three things to do that day: report to the Thain, teach the fauntlings sword fighting with Drogo, and return Adamanta Chubb's cookbook.

Resolving to spend a few hours with his favorite cousin first and foremost, Bilbo headed to his room to get dressed in his best leather jerkin and gauntlets.

Master Baggins had initially assumed that day would be uneventful like always, but you're about to find out just how mistaken the hobbit was.

That day was, in fact, the prologue of a long and worrisome adventure (nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable thing - made you late for dinner!) to a lonely mountain with a tremendous pest problem that had to be exterminated.

And Bilbo was chosen for - forced into - the job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful and immense feedback on the prologue! It's truly appreciated! I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and I apologize for the rather short length of this chapter; it was supposed to be much longer and to include the scenes with Bilbo and Drogo, the Thain, and possibly even Gandalf. However, it was taking too long just to finish this beginning portion, and I couldn't ignore your pleas for another chapter! So, please don't expect long chapters from this story, or else you'll be immensely disappointed. Don't forget to comment down below what you liked and what you think I should change, or to give me some kudos and subscribe/bookmark this story! I love you all, and I will try to get in the next chapter soon.


	3. Still Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo gets a heads-up from the Thain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit shorter than the last, but either way, I hope you enjoy.

The loud clang of swords on swords rang throughout the Shire, but no passing hobbit turned to stare as they were all accustomed to the familiar sound by now. Had been for quite some time, in fact.

Bilbo's lame wrist trembled underneath the force of Drogo's sword as he pushed back. Bilbo had broken a bone or two when he had still been an adventurous youth that loved to climb the tallest trees in Hobbiton (though he was never very skilled at it), and the fractures had never fully healed afterwards; it was the hobbit's one physical weakness, as it had been in the past and would also prove to be in the future.

That day had been Drogo's turn to teach the hobbit fauntlings sword fighting, and Bilbo, in a cheery mood at last night's success, had opted to help him out - which he was now beginning to regret. Apparently, he'd not regained nearly enough energy from his earlier nap as he'd assumed.

Their wide-eyed watchers continued to root for them as they stared in undisguised awe. You could hear some of them whispering to one another how they wanted to be _just_ like Uncle Bilbo or Cousin Drogo when they were older. 

At this, Bilbo gritted his teeth in determination, pushing with all his might against Drogo's sword one last time before he lunged back. His cousin's blade missed him by only hair lengths. Using Drogo's brief disorientation as an advantage, Bilbo came up behind his cousin's back.

Drogo let out a quiet curse when the sword met his neck from behind, reluctantly raising his hands in submission and defeat. More than half of the fauntlings began to cheer wildly. With a satisfied smirk, Bilbo sheathed his blade, turned to the little ones and bowed deeply. 

Unfortunately for him, Drogo saw his chance and took it like any respectable hobbit would, lunging for his thrown sword laying on the ground. The next thing Bilbo knew was the cold steel greeting his throat. His eyes had widened in shock before he rolled them and groaned, despite the warmth and pride surging in his heart. 

Drogo declared, "And that, my little masters, is how a true hobbit wins a fight against the nasty outsiders. Using your wit instead of your strength." Addressing his cousin directly, he added softly, "Remember, Bilbo. Never turn your back to the enemy, not unless you're sure they're out of the game. It may just cost you your life one day."

Drogo pulled away and a grin grew upon his face when the fauntlings came running up to them, nearly tackling him to the ground. Bilbo chuckled as he turned to collect his satchel and caught sight of someone lurking around the arena. Excusing himself from the group, he approached the older hobbit waiting for him.

"Uncle," Bilbo cordially greeted. "It's good to see you."

Isengrim Took III, or more commonly referred to as the Thain of the Shire at the time, grinned at his nephew. "Bilbo! I'm relieved to see you're well, too. Especially after last night." Bilbo's smile slid off slightly as his uncle continued, "Faramir Gamwich saw fit to inform me about the... hitch in Bywater and sent a rider with a letter just in case."

Bilbo sighed. "It truly wasn't that big of a deal, more of a slight surprise than anything, Uncle. The men were easily dealt with." 

Isengrim seemed to reluctantly accept that, a frown curving his eyebrows. "Still. You can't fault an old, fussy hobbit for worrying about his favorite nephew, now can you?"

Bilbo laughed, inquiring, "So, are there any new tasks for me?"

"No, strangely enough. The Bigger Folk have grown quiet as of late, and it's highly unnerving. No, we're lucky we've even got the few jobs we have now. There's never been this sort of silence since... well, a long time," said the Thain. He seemed to have aged decades in only a matter of minutes. Composing himself, Isengrim reassured his nephew, "But nothing to worry yourself about, Bilbo. You should head home, rest a bit while you still can. I have a feeling this is just the still before the storm... a strong and dangerous one at that. Something that may just change our world. For better or otherwise, I know not." 

His eyes were glazed over as he spoke both contradictorily and bluntly, a common symptom of his "senses", a rare gift given by Yavanna herself and a curse at the same time as well. The entire Shire was aware of them - they ranged from crop fertility to the gender of a single embryo - and the elders had deemed Isengrim a prophet, much to the disbelief of the hobbits.

His uncle had not meant to disconcert Bilbo then, but nonetheless, it had happened and it stuck in the hobbit's mind afterwards too.

Because prophet or not, the Thain's senses were never mistaken.

  


Bilbo was making a poor attempt at relaxing on the bench outside of his smial after tea time, inhaling from his pipe and releasing different coloured rings with peculiar shapes. However, as much as the hobbit tried, he could not get his mind of the echoes of his uncle's warning.

_The still before the storm... Still before the storm..._

_It may change our world..._

_What in Yavanna could that possibly mean?_ Bilbo wondered, closing his eyes again as a frown overcame his face. _Oh, bother, this is just the trouble I needed right now..._

And that's exactly when someone whose hide nor hair had been glimpsed in these parts for many years, decided to come strolling by Bag End, stirring up even more trouble for our poor Master Baggins.

This time, in the form of strange-mannered and wandering dwarrows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know. I promised there would be Gandalf in this chapter, and I did write him in, honest! But the chapter had become incredibly long after I wrote in the first scene between the wizard and Bilbo; it was going to be impossible to edit and post before 2016. So, I've shortened the chapter... sorry about that. But the next chapter will 100% for sure have Gandalf, and it will be arriving sooner than this one since I've already written it. It just needs to be edited.
> 
> Anyways, thank you guys so much for all the support! I can believe I've gotten so many views and kudos! And your comments are simply wonderful and inspiring! I can't wait to see your response to this chapter, so please don't forget to send a kudos, bookmark, subscribe, comment, etc. I will love you if you do, and I may just update faster... *wink wink, nudge nudge*.
> 
> And yeah, that's all. :) Have an amazing day/night, wherever you are!


	4. Good Morning (Begone Now)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo gets the unexpected visitor... and this encounter leads to a whole new path in the assassin's life.

As a matter of fact, this being strolling down the road hadn't been down the Hill since his close friend, the Old Took, had passed away. Most hobbits had forgotten what he'd looked like after he'd gone across the Water on his own personal businesses since they were all fauntlings back when he used to visit frequently.

That fateful morning, when he opened his eyes, all Bilbo Baggins saw approaching was simply an elderly man. One who was wearing a tall pointed hat, long grey cloak with a matching scarf, and immense black boots whilst wielding a peculiar, long, intricately-carved wooden staff.

Despite the man's innocent grandfatherly appearance, the hobbit was still suspicious of him of course. Hobbits hadn't lasted as long as they had by being completely naive beings, now had they? There was a sort of bothersome gleam in the towering man's eyes and an unusual strength in his shuffling steps that indicated he was downplaying his appearance. From what Bilbo could tell, the old man was used to doing this and certainly didn't need his staff for leaning purposes... So what was the real purpose of it?

During Bilbo's inspection of him, the stranger finally reached his bench out of his smial. Once he realized the man wasn't about to start the conversation, Bilbo greeted him like he would any other stranger, with a jovial "Good morning!" Beneath his affable air, the hobbit was still calculating him, searching for even the smallest possible hint of a threat. 

The man looked down at him from under long, bushy eyebrows and, always one for riddles, he demanded, "What do you mean?" At Bilbo's inquiring look, he continued: "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not? Or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

A twitch overtook Bilbo's brow. "All of them at once, I suppose," he answered. "I'm afraid I didn't quite catch your name, Mister - ?"

"Well, you should know my name although you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means... me!" 

And that's when the hobbit finally recognized him.

Gandalf - the Wandering Wizard, the Grey Pilgrim, the One with Many Names, and the greatest nuisance the Shire has even experienced - observed while a look of realization dawned on Bilbo Baggins' eyes.

"Gandalf? Not Gandalf, the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks? Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! Well! I had no idea you were still in business."

"Where else should I be?" Gandalf demanded indignantly.  
Bilbo coughed awkwardly, looking away. "Well..."

In a dry tone, Gandalf said, "All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me; you seem to recall my fireworks kindly at any rate, and that is not without hope."  
Bilbo finally grew fed up with avoiding his actual question(s). "Can I help you?" he asked. _What are you up to, Mithrandir? Who are you dragging along on your crazy adventures this time, you old fool?_

Unfortunately for the assassin, Gandalf seemed to deem this an excellent day to irritate the hobbit by only giving vague answers. "It remains to be seen. I am looking for someone to partake in an adventure with me."

Excitement and triumph sparked inside the hobbit. He had been right! An adventure, though? Now what to do about that? No one had been outside of Bree for many years, not counting the once-in-a-while mission in nearby Mens' villages, and it was highly unlikely that Gandalf's adventure was going to take place somewhere in the safe fields of Hobbiton.

However, it was unarguable that Bilbo was definitely more so his mother's son that his father's, constantly wishing to defy social norms and venture out into the world. Bungo Baggins, before passing away during the Fell Winter, had always been far more commonsensible of the two, and only he had managed to calm Belladonna's fiery personality for the many years they were married.

But Bilbo didn't have anyone to cool down his own curiosity and desire for adventure, except his father's even-tempered blood in him.

Now the two sides warred within the assassin whilst he stared at the waiting wizard.

His mother's side wanted him to take on the journey and see first-hand experience what the world was like, but his father's voice argued strongly that he would endanger the whole Shire if he agreed. He might slip up and reveal his hidden skills as a hired killer to the fearful outsiders. The whole of Middle Earth would set after them if this happened. While the hobbits were killer-strong (literally), they would not be strong enough to take on the combined forces of the best armies of the Men, Elves, and Dwarrows.

Fear was a very powerful tool, indeed, causing the most unreasonable actions of every being in existence. The hobbits couldn't afford that.

Eventually (momentarily), the sensible Baggins mindset won over the dauntless Took blood.

"An adventure? No, I don’t imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner!" Bilbo finally announced.

And that was final.

Nervous under the wizard's shrewd stare (because despite all their training, no single hobbit could take down a wizard if a fight began), Bilbo pulled out his morning letters from the mailbox and began to uncaringly flip through them, pretending to take no more notice of Gandalf. But the wizard still did not move. He stood leaning on his staff and gazing at the hobbit without saying anything, till Bilbo got uncomfortable and even a little cross.

Master Baggins, as this was the personality he now took on, stood up upon realizing no more responses would be coming from the wizard and faced Tharkun (yet another name, which the Dwarrows called him) with another "Good morning!" dismissal. He then turned to his smial again and began to open the door, but he froze when Gandalf finally saw fit to return to the discussion again.

He seemed to be annoyed and... was that disappointment in the Grey Wanderer's voice? "To think that I should live to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's only son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"

Bilbo spun around in surprise and demanded, "Beg your pardon?" He hadn't realized the wizard remembered who he was. Bilbo certainly hadn't been the most interesting and notable fauntling.

Gandalf stated solemnly, "You've changed, and not entirely for the better, Master Bilbo Baggins, son of Belladonna and Bungo Baggins." Bilbo had no reply to that, mentally fumbling for words, so the wizard continued as if he'd just made something final. "Well, that's decided. It'll be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

_Oh, no. That wasn't good._

"Inform the who…? What…?! No! No! No, wait." This spurred Bilbo into action. "We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not any day! I suggest you try over the hill or across the water," he protested, his facade of a polite gentlehobbit slipping a little. Realizing this, Bilbo concluded, "But please come to tea—any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Goodbye!”

_Be gone already, you Yavanna-damn nuisance!_ the assassin thought, scowling slightly.

With that, the hobbit turned and scuttled inside his round green door and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seem rude. No need to anger the wizard further. Bilbo had already had a couple very eventful days in the past week, what with the mission and his uncle's worrisome visions, and this encounter was not improving his mood in the slightest.

"Why on earth did I ask him to tea for?" he said to himself as he locked the door. 

About to move away and perhaps sit down for some calming tea (he may be an assassin, but the missions were always the same routine; this abrupt change... this confrontation with the dratted wizard changed the whole situation into something unfamiliar and terrifying), Bilbo heard a scratching noise at his door. 

He frowned and went to investigate, peeking through the small window and jerking back in surprise when he saw Mitrhandir staring right back at him. The next time Bilbo chanced a look outside, he had finished his tea cup, and the wizard was shuffling away.

Gandalf, in the meantime, had still been standing outside the freshly-painted green door and laughing long but quietly. After a while, he had stepped up and, with the spike on his staff, scratched a queer but recognizable sign on the lovely wood. Then he strode off, just about the time when Bilbo was beginning to think that he had escaped adventures very well.

Oh, just how wrong the poor assassin was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I am sooo sorry this took so long to update! I had started taking art classes recently and ran out of time to edit this chapter! I finally managed to snag some time to finish this one chappie, but I wouldn't expect another one for a long time... Well, I hope you guys at least like this (shitty) one! :/
> 
> Please have a wonderful day/evening wherever you are, and thank you for reading!


End file.
